Jeeves and the Wedding Bells(17)

‘I have received intelligence from the Hall, sir, that a further house guest is expected this afternoon.’

‘Right ho. Who is he?’

‘She, sir. Dame Judith Puxley.’

Even on such a sunny morning I felt a shudder run through the lower vertebrae. ‘What on earth brings that preying cannibal to Dorsetshire?’

‘It appears she is an old school friend of Lady Hackwood, sir.’

I found the mind boggling a bit. ‘It’s hard to imagine that particular schoolroom, isn’t it, Jeeves?’

‘It does lie, sir, at the extremity of one’s power to conjecture.’

‘Had old Isaac Newton done his stuff by then do you suppose?’

‘One supposes that the physical sciences were in a markedly less advanced state of knowledge, sir.’

I was about to be a little more humorous at Dame Judith’s expense when a sobering thought struck me. ‘If Dame Judith was at school with Lady Hackwood, then it follows that Lady H must also have been at school with …’

‘I believe so, sir.’

‘…Aunt Agatha.’

‘The three ladies appear to have been contemporaries at the academy.’

‘Which means that Lady H must also be a friend of Aunt Agatha.’

‘Inevitably, sir.’

‘This ups the stakes a bit, doesn’t it?’

‘I see no immediate danger, sir, though it would be as well to remain on the qui vive.’

Dame Judith Puxley, I should explain, had featured in a painful episode in my younger life. She was a house guest at a Victorian pile in Shropshire where, following a crossed wire over the bolting of a second-floor hatch, I was discovered on the main roof late one night dressed as Julius Caesar, and had to be brought down by the local fire brigade. Dame Judith was the relict of the late Sir Mortimer Puxley, a big cheese in the world of chemistry, and was herself a leading authority on – I think I’ve got this right – Sumerian tablets and the cuneiform script.

‘One thing bothers me in particular, Jeeves. If something comes can something else be far behind?’

‘Perhaps you have in mind the poet Shelley, sir. “If winter comes, can spring be far behind?”’

‘That’s the boy. I mean, must we expect Aunt Agatha at any moment?’

‘I think we may be fairly sure that Lady Worplesdon is detained in London.’

‘I bally well hope so, Jeeves. We left plenty of provisions and a spare key for the juvenile delinquent?’

‘Her ladyship was well provided for, sir.’

‘Jolly good. And in any event I shan’t be going within a mile of Melbury Hall. I’m off to Swanage to get some sea air. When I return, I shall have a solution to the Woody and Amelia problem.’

‘Indeed, sir? And what about the question of Miss Meadowes, Mr Venables and the future of Melbury Hall?’

‘Jeeves,’ I said, ‘I think my success with Burke and Debrett has nettled you. I detect a hint of green.’

‘On the contrary, sir, I wish you every—’

‘I see something of the dog and plenty of the manger.’

‘As you wish, sir. Will you be back in time for tea?’

It took me rather longer than I had expected to motor down past Wareham and on towards Corfe Castle, though I must say it was an invigorating drive, with the Purbeck Hills rising gently to starboard. The trouble with these picturesque outings is that the chap at the wheel never gets a decent look at the scenery. I kept thinking how much better it would be if I had a co-driver. And before you could say ‘Brooklands’ this co-driver had, in my mind, taken the shape of a tallish female in a cotton print dress, long of limb and with eyes the colour of melting chocolate.

I had to remind myself pretty firmly that this vision was betrothed to another and that this ruled her strictly hors de combat. I rushed neither the crab salad, the half-bot, nor the soothing coffee and cigarette that followed. Instead, I gazed out to sea a fair bit, and I cannot deny that it was a pensive Bertram who climbed aboard and restarted the engine.

By the time I got back to Kingston St Giles, I had put all such thoughts to one side. We Woosters do not stew in our own juice. My mind had become once more a precision instrument tuned to a single end: the reuniting of P. Beeching with his heart’s desire.

‘Jeeves,’ I called out as I crossed the hall, ‘I’ve got a plan and it’s an absolute pippin.’

There was a short pause while the faithful manservant could be heard conducting some business with pot and cups. He emerged from the kitchen with a look one could describe as distrait.

‘Everything all right, Jeeves? I think I’ll have the tea indoors today.’